Point : Counterpoint

she woke
she blinkedit rained
she stretched
she peed
she ground
she brew
she drank
she read
she shat
she breathed
she wandered
she ran
she wondered
she stretched
she showered
she sang
she ate
she dressed
she walked

he woke
she sathe peed
she readhe showered
she typedhe ate
she typedhe trained
she laughedhe elevatored
she listenedhe sat
she disagreedhe read
she acquiescedhe typed
she reflectedhe presented
she worriedhe noddedrain abetted
she breathedhe answered
she typedhe typed
she typedhe typed

she smiledhe ate
she gossipedhe bragged
she nibbledhe texted
she sippedhe slurpedclouds tiptoed
she noticedhe returned
she presentedhe typed
she surgedhe furrowed
she calmedhe called
she elevatoredhe yelled
she walkedhe regretted
she sathe walked

she noddedhe sauntered
she sawhe sat
she avertedhe texted
she revertedhe saw
she felthe waited
she tingledhe approached
she blushedhe offered
she acceptedhe asked
she answeredhe answered
she askedhe probed
she allowedsun sethe dared
she walkedhe walked

she hintedhe touched
she coiledhe doubted
she openedhe mirrored
she undressedhe watched
she slitheredhe followed
she touchedhe entered
she wincedhe worried
she arrivedhe thrust
she followedhe retained
she overtookhe watched
she camehe smiled
she embracedhe continued
she nourishedhe came
she smiledhe breathed
she peedhe lay
she washedhe slept
she observedhe slept
she dressedhe sleptnight hummed
she lefthe awoke
she walkedhe noticed
she mulledhe turned
she walkedhe slept
she itchedhe slept
she relivedhe slept
she glistenedhe slept
she slept

love happened

The image is Magritte’s The Lovers, from 1928. Many say the work represents the difficulty of achieving true intimacy with another, as we retain ourselves behind veils and barriers. Perhaps that’s right. Perhaps it’s not.

8 thoughts on “Point : Counterpoint”

‘she coiled’, ‘she slithered’? I seem to recall that it ended badly for Lucifer. Do you see yourself that way? And ‘rain abetted’ – that is excellent. One expects ‘abated’, but ‘abetted’ implies so much more.

Your blog displays a mercurial intelligence – full of instinct and irony. It feels to me like a mosaic, each part an element of the larger picture. If ‘she’ is not you, then she is at least an image of you seen through a glass darkly. I like the poem. A lot. It’s earthy, and it captures some rhythm like a dance step diagram. Thanks for posting it!

Regarding refractions, indeed. As long as long as the Sarabande from second cello suite serenades plaintively in the background (Casals, naturally), soundtrack for that one sliver of self. Perhaps the most prominent.

Poor Michael, beset by Junkers. We see this pattern even now, as individual rights and universal justice encounter the survival interests of a ruling class – those with their fingers on the button and their noses in the trough. Truth in advertising. I saw the movie with Mads MIkkelsen – an actor whose versatility has surprised me despite his introduction as the cartoon bad guy with the eye bleed in ‘Casino Royale’. (A movie which comes in two parts: the opening sequence paean to martial arts, parkour and heavy machinery ending with a giant explosion, and then the rest of it.)